


Hogsmeade Weekend

by sassybipotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Absence of gloves, Basically Draco tutors Harry in potions and they’re soft for each other, Draco is calm and composed and Harry is flustered and in love, Fluff, Getting Together, Hogsmeade date kinda, Idiots in Love, M/M, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22241554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassybipotter/pseuds/sassybipotter
Summary: Draco tutors Harry in potions, Harry is a bit flustered and has a crush.Also, gloves play a very important role!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 167





	Hogsmeade Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a fluffy and soft one shot written as a thank you to my lovely followers on tumblr!  
> What can I say, I’m a sucker for soft Drarry.

A snowstorm was brewing as he was walking down the road to Heagsmeade on the first Saturday after winter break. The snow was crunching under his chunky books. He picked up his pace, securing his scarf close round his neck, blowing hot air into his cupped hands. He was starting to regret not taking his gloves just as he turned around the corner. The tea shop he was heading towards sprang into view from behind a crowd of people and he smiled a little. He could not help feeling the excitement thrumming in his whole body just as he opened the door, the bell above his head chimed softly, alerting everyone inside of the newcomer.

Harry salutes Amanda, the girl behind the counter, and proceeds to walk further into the tea shop. He spots him sitting next to the window, with his nose in a book, hair slightly in disarray, lips gently pursed in concentration. Draco’s white hair seems so gleam from the light falling from the window, blending perfectly with the milky fog and snow behind the window pane. He’s already ordered, Harry can see. A teapot of jasmine tea and a tray of biscuits for them to share. Harry finally reaches his destination just as Draco looks up. There is a slight amusement tucking at his lips, but he does not speak.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Ron kept talking about quidditch and the path here is brutal right now. There is a snow storm coming,” Harry says as he shrugs out of his woollen coat and puts it on the back of his chair. The woollen beanie found its temporary home on the tabletop, next to Draco’s gloves.

“Well, you’re in luck. I had some reading to do for Arithmancy. Next time however, I’ll not wait around for you,” Draco sneered but it lacked its usual mocking undertone.

“Draco, you agreed to help me, remember?” a chuckle followed. Then a huff.

“Yes, though I’m not sure why. Merlin knows your incompetence is getting on my last nerve. Now, let’s delve into the Wound-Cleaning Potion. Now, I’m sure you’ve read the required chapter and I prepared the necessary notes with my comments that will make you more efficient while brewing and —,” once he started rambling about Potions there was no way to stop him. Harry learned it the hard way. The second time they met for Harry’s tutoring lessons, Draco rambled on and on about Potions without a pause until the girl, Amanda, came by to inform them they were closing. Draco did not even blink, he just kept talking. Harry tried to get his attention several times and after eight unsuccessful attempts he finally managed to inform the blond that they need to leave or they’ll be late and miss the curfew. Draco blinked, his cheeks tingled pink and got up. They managed to come back to their common room 5 minutes after curfew, but no ones saw them. Thank Merlin.   
  
Today is no exception. Harry manages to get a few words and a question here and there, but once Draco starts his rant about different materials used for knifes, he knows his battle’s been lost. So he just leans back in the back of his chair and listens, eyes flitting about Draco’s handsome face, stoping for a moment or two to admire him. He likes him like this, all loose and calm, excitement seeping out of him in waves as he discusses, more with himself than Harry, the most exciting cutting techniques. Harry can’t really relate, he is more of a chop-chop-chop and get it done kind of guy, but that’s also why he needs help with Potions in the first place. _It’s about technique, precision, the small things, you can’t just cut ingredients into big chunks and hope for the best_ _Harry_ is what he told Harry after their third meeting. Harry lost his willpower to fight him on these things and decided to stick to his passive role in these meetings. It’s safer that way. He contemplates all this while keeping his eyes locked on Draco’s eyelashes, which flutter from time to time and brush the tops of his cheeks. Harry can’t seem to look away.

“Are you staring at me?” Draco sounds amused with a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

“No?”

“Are you asking me that or telling me that?”

“Telling you? Eh.. I’m telling you. No staring of any kind. Pass me the biscuits, please,” Harry clears his throat, slightly embarrassed he’s been caught looking at Draco this time. It never seems to bother him, but today must be an exception. The tray of biscuits lands before him, but is covered with Draco’s hand. Harry shoots him a pleading look, which Draco returns with a smile.

“What’s with you today? I finished my recollection, all with my witty remarks and you did not seem to notice.”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s nothing, I’ve been thinking about cedar roots and how they turn the potion purple,” he snatches a biscuit from the tray and proceeds to stuff it whole into his mouth. Draco chuckles in amusement.

“Well, I’m glad you remember that cedar roots, if boiled in a potion turn a potion purple. Also, yes the Wound-Cleaning Potion is purple but it gets its colour from dried Mulberries. Nice try, but I’ll advise you to tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing. Honestly. Just lost in thought. Maybe a change of scenery would do us good?”

“We did not come to Hogsmeade to stroll about, we agreed to study a—,” Harry interrupted him right there and then.

“I know, but you said it yourself. You finished with your explanation, I have all the notes and your comments and there is not much we can discuss about it. So what do you say, let’s get out?” Harry’s tone is hopeful, betraying his pathetic excitement at the prospect of going through Hogsmeade together. Maybe his crush was really getting out of hand, as Ron said to him while he was leaving on a date with Hermione.

“Okay, but I need to go to Scrivenshaft’s,” and with that Draco rises from his chair and puts on his coat. Once they’re sufficiently covered, Harry takes the notes Draco has given him and heads to the counter. A firm, gloved hand stops him on his way. He turns around and is met with a guarded expression.

“I payed before you came here. It’s my treat today.”

“But we agreed—,” Harry panicked. Well, they agreed that Harry would pay, because Draco is tutoring him. He is startled out of his thought by Draco, again, who squeezes his shoulder.

“Yes I know, but I did not want to wait and payed upfront. I always do. Don’t think about it too much, you’ll get wrinkles. Now let’s go,” Draco places his other gloved hand on Harry’s right shoulder and steers him in the direction of the door.

“Bye Amanda!” and “See you Amanda!” can be heard from the front of the shop just as their backs disappear behind the front door. Her responding goodbye is met with silence and then a couple of chuckles from guests waiting in line to pay.

They are met with a bruising cold wind and frozen rain hits them in their faces as they step out of the shop. Draco stuffs his hands into his coat and heads in the direction of the parchment shop. Harry follows, albeit a bit slower, the cold nipping at him as he trudged forward, books in his frozen grip. Draco start talking animatedly, but stops as he realises Harry is not beside him. He turns around and his eyes widen at the sight of the Golden Boy, shivering like a character out of Charles Dickens novel.

“Harry Potter, what in Merlin’s name are you doing? You’re a bloody wizard, why don’t you shrink those books and put them in your coat pockets? That way you can put your hands in the coats too, you know, to warm them up.”

“Oh, get stuffed. I did not want to risk damaging the notes, I’ll have you know,” he shrugs but feels his cheeks getting red. He hopes Draco will blame it on the cold.

“Here, let me—,” he taps the books and notes with his want, cast a wordless _Reducio_ and hands them back to Harry, “see? Now you can blame me if they get ruined. Come on!”

Harry obediently follows after him, his steps brisker then before. They walk side by side to the parchment shop and go in. They spend 35 minutes there, Draco looking for the right quill for his Healers study program application, which Harry finds adorable, if he can say so himself. They pay for their supplies, shrink them and stuff them into their coats. By the time they head from Zonko’s to Honeydukes Harry’s pockets are stuffed to the brim with his purchases and he silently curses himself for not wearing a coat with inner pockets. Because now there is no space left for his hands. A fact Draco notices just as they leave Honeydukes.

“Where are your gloves?”

“Um, my room?”

“Why?”

“Oh I don’t know, they look better on my desk!”

“You don’t need to be a prick about it. Just admit you forgot to take them with you, like the fool you are. Here, take one of mine,” Draco says, takes the glove off of his left hand and hands it to Harry.

“Thank you, but now your left hand will be cold!”

“Yes, as will your right hand be. Come on, let’s go back to the castle, I’m starving,” he moves forward, not spearing Harry a glance. Harry puts on the wonderfully warm glove and sprints back to Draco to walk beside him. He sees Draco’s bare left hand, getting blue at the fingertips from the cold. In a surge of stupid Gryffindor bravery he takes Draco’s pale hand in his brown one. Draco startles and stops.

“What are you doing?” He is a bit breathless, a fact Harry attributes to the cold weather and Draco’s fast tempo.

“Well, skin on skin contact helps you get warm and you know, it’s only reasonable as you lend me your other glove and now you’re cold and-and,” Draco smiles at Harry, a brilliant smile he has not soon the whole week prior.

“How thoughtful of you. Well, I hope no one thinks this is a date when they see us.” With that, the blond starts walking up the hill towards the castle. Harry contemplates Draco’s words and after a period of silence he asks a question that’s been at the tip of his tongue for the last 20 minutes.

“Would it be so bad?”

“Would what be so bad?”

“If people thought it was a date.. if-if it were a date?”

“Oh. Well, no it would not be a problem if people thought that, but it’s not a proper date if no one ask the other party out, now is it?” They slow down until they stop altogether. Harry squeezes Draco’s still cold hand in his and meets those breathtaking grey eyes.

“Will you go on a date with me? A proper date? Next Saturday?”

“I will, but you have to promise to bring your gloves next week. As romantic as this may seem, I’m really freezing and I’d rather not have frostbite from our first date,” Draco’s hand squeezes Harry’s back.

“So, no frostbite or bites of any kind then?” Harry’s tone is amused if a little breathless.

“That was awful. Why did I agree to a date?”

“Because you like me? Hopefully?”

“Yeah I do. I guess you’re lucky then,” Draco stepped closer to Harry, their breaths intermingled between them.

“Oh, I know I am,” he says and leans in for the remaining distance and kisses Draco’s cold lips.

When Amanda sees them the following week, sans books and holding hands, she laughs and turns to an older gentleman sitting near her counter a _told you they would date eventually_ whispered not so discreetly as she would’ve hoped.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any fic prompts or requests, you can find me on tumblr: https://sassybipotter.tumblr.com/


End file.
